


Saviour

by imburningtheletters



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M, Panic Attack, Pirate AU (kind of), Whipping, sorry - Freeform, this sounds a lot darker than I thought it would
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 13:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14770230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imburningtheletters/pseuds/imburningtheletters
Summary: “Twenty lashes,” Jack said softly. “One for each man you could have killed for the sake of three.”





	Saviour

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw this prompt and I wanted to write it. I decided to post it as well. I don’t know how good it is, so like leave comments so I can improve or something.
> 
> Thanks for reading I hope you enjoy.

Racetrack Higgins protected his family. And while the crew wasn’t necessarily related, they were as close to family as Race had ever had. So when Albert, Elmer, and Boots were in trouble, he went after them. 

He managed to get them out. It wasn’t easy, but it worked. Sneaking around the captain, Jack, was the hardest part. Race didn’t know how he thought they would succeed in not being noticed, but they were. 

“I told you not to go after them,” Jack said, glaring at Race from across his desk. 

“What else was I suppose to do? Let them die?” 

“You disobeyed me.” 

“I had to!” Race cried. He had to save his brothers. 

“You deliberately disobeyed my orders.” 

“I saved them!” 

And suddenly, Jack was standing, hands planted firmly on his desk. “But you could have gotten everyone killed! You think your crew members can trust you if you go off doing your own thing and not taking orders? You were completely unaccounted for!” 

Jack’s chest was heaving with the force of his breaths, matching Race’s own. Their eyes locked on each other. Race couldn’t help but see the agony in Jack’s eyes. Race jutted his chin, clenching his fists, waiting to hear what Jack would do. 

“Twenty lashes,” Jack said softly. “One for each man you could have killed for the sake of three.” 

Race gulped. “You can’t be serious...” 

Jack closed his eyes tightly, his voice quiet as he said, “It’s what must be done.” 

Race was taken up to the deck, his head still held high, even as terror filled his eyes. He was stripped of his shirt and tied to a post, laid bare for his crew to see. Whispers were passed back and forth, only fueling his tremors. 

Heavy footsteps came behind him, and Race turned to look. He saw the whip first, shaking as it glinted in the sun. His eyes drifted up until he locked eyes with Spot. 

Spot, who he had spent countless nights in bed with. Spot, who had held him during nightmares and storms. Spot, who’s hands he had washed of blood from previous punishments. 

Spot, who was about to whip him. 

Race felt his eyes fill with tears. He knew, in the back of his head, that Spot was the one who delivered lashes. But standing there, waiting for Spot to deliver the blow, hit Race like a ton of bricks. 

Neither of them said anything. Race could hear the whip uncoiling, flinching away as the metal tip hit the ground. Nothing happened for a minute. The only sounds were the wind in the sails and the unsettled crew. 

“For risking the lives of his crew mates,” Jack’s voice rang out across the deck. “Racetrack shall receive twenty lashes.” 

There was a commotion from the crowd and Race turned in time to see Boots break through and try run to him. Albert’s strong hands caught him and pulled him back. The sounds of Boots’ screams slowly faded as he was taken below deck. 

Jack took a moment for the crew to settle before he said, “Begin.” 

Spot brought the whip up slowly, knuckles white as he went to whip his Racetrack. It whistled through the air and struck Race’s back. 

He flinched as his skin was torn open, warm blood dripping down his back. A second and a third hit, and Race had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t scream. 

Four, five, six, and seven came quickly. Race only whimpered, not wanting Boots, or Spot, or the others to hear his pain.

Eight, a gasp. Nine, a sharp inhale. Ten, a moan of pain. Eleven finally broke him. Race screamed as the strike crossed over four and seven. 

By the time he reached fifteen, he was sobbing and screaming. The pain of the lashes mixed with the pain of his Spot whipping him, bringing him to his knees and blurring his sight. As he waited to feel sixteen, he gasped for breath. 

But sixteen didn’t come. Angry voices were snapping at each other behind him. Race couldn’t think well enough to tell who they came from. 

“Just get them done!” 

And the whip was back. Five quick lashes. Race screamed brokenly, his back burning and hot. His sobs were practically forced out of his throat as he lay collapsed against the post. 

Gentle hands untied his own and Race slumped on to the deck. He couldn’t even find enough of his voice to cry out as the lashes tore from the movement. His eyes drifted closed as he was carried down below deck. 

***

When Race woke up, he was alone. A candle lit the small room he was in. He was laid on his stomach, his back stinging duly. The soft creaking of the ship was all he could hear. 

The door slowly opened, and Race’s head snapped up to see who was coming in. The quick movement sent pain rippling over his back. The person in the doorway rushed to Race as he gasped sharply. 

“Hey, hey, calm down. Calm down, Race. Don’t move. You’re fine, just don’t move,” Crutchie’s voice washed over Race’s ears. Race had never heard Crutchie speak so softly. 

“C-crutch?” Race asked softly. His throat was sore, as if he’d been screaming. “What happened?” 

“Oh, Race,” Crutchie whispered, softly petting Race’s curls. “You don’t remember? Saving Albert, Boots, and Elmer? Your punishment?” 

It all came rushing back to Race. He began crying, the pain in his back seeming to be amplified by his remembrance. Crutchie just ran his fingers through Race’s hair and over his cheeks, calming him down and brushing away tears. “I-I wanna see them.” 

Crutchie’s hand stilled in Race’s hair. “I’m sorry, Racer. Jack doesn’t want you seeing people right now. Especially not those three. Only Jack, Davey, and I are allowed.”

Race closed his eyes tightly, as if trying to block out what was happening. “I don’t wanna see Jack!” He cried. 

Crutchie sighed and stood up. “I’ll let him know,” he said, walking out of the small room. Race heard the door shut and a lock click. 

His isolation began. 

***

Seven days passed. 

With it passed countless hours of restless days and sleepless nights. 

***

Fourteen days passed. 

Race’s back was mostly healed, thanks to Davey’s healing salves and gentle hands. However, he was constantly tired, but never could sleep. He had never felt more anxious and alone. He could feel his mental health slipping as his physical health climbed. 

***

Sixteen days passed. 

Race, who usually was constantly pacing or trying to pace around the room, hadn’t moved since Crutchie had first checked in on him. The younger boy had been staring at the wall in the dark, unseeing. 

Race hadn’t even noticed when Jack came in. He didn’t seem to process anything until Jack crouched down in front of his face. Race’s eyes flicked over Jack’s face before widening in recognition. 

He jerked back, shaking his head and throwing his hands into a defensive position. He was sobbing and screaming for Jack to just get away, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, don’t! 

Jack quickly left the room, sitting outside and leaving Davey and Crutchie to try and calm him. Ten minutes passed and there was no end to Race’s cries. Crew members passed Jack, worriedly glancing at the door next to him. 

However, no one stopped, all of them knowing they’d be in trouble. Albert was the only one who had hesitated. 

Jack knew he wanted to scream at Jack again, but Albert simply leveled a glare at him and said, “Boots hasn’t slept well since we were rescued. I doubt Race has either. Think about what this is doing to the crew. To Race.”

So, Jack wasn’t yelled at by Albert. He had hoped no one would, but his luck was out. Spot, who usually stayed above deck, came stomping down the hallway. He stopped in front of Jack and began his tirade. 

“We can hear him screaming from the deck! I can’t keep ignoring this! Let me in, let me see him!” 

Jack shook his head, asking, “You think he’ll want to see you? You think that’ll help?”

Spot shoved Jack aside and said, “I have to try.”

Jack scrambled to pull Spot away, but Spot punched him in the eye and sent him sprawling to the floor. The door opened, Crutchie poking his head out to see what was happening. Spot instantly pushed past him, barging into the room. 

Davey scrambled back as Spot made his way to the bed. Davey and Crutchie watched silently as Spot carefully approached Race, speaking in a soft and gentle voice. When Jack tried to get in to stop Spot, he was shushed and held back. 

Race had stopped screaming and sobbing, staring at Spot as tears dripped down him face. Spot held out a hand, and Race slowly took it. Spot let Race take his time, relearning Spot. The two ended up laying in the bed together, Race curled into Spot’s chest with Spot’s arm thrown protectively around him. 

And for the first time in weeks, Race slept.


End file.
